The Ties that Bind
by Greywolf Lupous
Summary: Set before and during the first season, looking at how everyone went from being strangers to not only being a team, but friends as well.
1. Simplicity

Title: The Ties that Bind: "Simplicity"

Author: Greywolf Lupous

Disclaimer: Why don't I own Stargate Atlantis, Rodney, or Major Sheppard? Quite simply because... well, I'm just not as creative as Brad Wright and co. I shamelessly borrow them though, and try to leave everyone relatively intact. Do I get brownie points for that?

Spoilers: For "Rising (Part 1)", and a tiny one in the notes for "Before I Sleep"

Author's Notes: This first story was originally inspired by a short two second shot in "Before I Sleep" where (close your eyes if you don't want spoilers for that episode) water starts filling up in the gateroom, and everyone in the time jumper realizes that McKay is about to die. The look that passes across John's face just struck me, as there supposedly hasn't been that much interaction between them. So I figured they must've bonded a little bit before ever going to Pegasus. This was originally going to be short, but you know those two... don't shut up. Somewhere along the way I decided to try and do one for each episode in Season One. So without further rambling I present the first, in hopefully a long series of stories exploring team bonding.

As always, I must give thanks to those who make my fics better. I'd like to give a big thanks to my betas Tipper and Linda, you guys are fantastic.

* * *

The first time he met Dr. Rodney McKay, Major John Sheppard had been ferrying a crate of something that had more security clearance than every black ops mission he'd ever been assigned put together. He'd been at McMurdo for over eleven months, and it was the first time he'd been assigned to fly to this strange outpost so many miles away from the main base.

A man bundled in more jackets than seemed humanly possible paced between two marines. Sheppard could see him waving his arms around from his aerial position as he prepared to set the helicopter down. The wind generated by the rotors made the man pause in his pacing, in order to make an exaggerated showing of trying to hold back the wind.

The helicopter set down on the snow softly and John killed the engine, taking his time as he climbed out. He met the two marines as they moved towards the back of the helicopter, glancing at the names on their uniforms: Miller and Stackhouse. He looked at the other man, who was trudging through the snow. Civilian, definitely. Probably a scientist--they were the only ones other than the military crazy enough to stake out a claim in the Antarctic.

"Can we hurry it up here?" The man snapped at the two sergeants. "I'm liable to lose a toe if we're out here too long."

Sheppard forced himself to hide a smirk at the flashes of annoyance that crossed the two marines' faces, but they started towards the large crate strapped down under a large tarp, leaving Sheppard with the civilian.

"So," Sheppard said gamely as the impatient man started rubbing his hands together, "you guys having fun here?"

"Yes, we make snow angels every afternoon after tea," the other man replied snippily, before narrowing his eyes at the two soldiers. "Hey watch it! We can't just make another one of those!"

Sheppard raised his eyebrows, curiosity piqued, but he had spent too many years in the military to let it show, much less ask. Still, he glanced at the man next to him--it was odd that a scientist would get such high level security clearance.

"New set of china?" he asked sarcastically, not bothering to hide his grin at the sour look the man gave him.

"Who _are_ you?" He asked, as if John had just flown in wearing a Carmen Miranda fruit hat and offered to sing the cabaret.

"Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force." When the man lifted his upper lip in response, John couldn't tell if it was in disdain or he was trying his best Elvis impersonation. "Doctor Who, I presume?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Doctor McKay, resident genius. Now if you'd please move, these fine gentleman would like to take that box of none-of-your-business down to you-don't-need-to-know."

Sheppard stepped aside, giving Stackhouse and Miller a sympathetic nod. He wasn't sure he could put up with that twenty-four-seven. "Someone ate his cranky flakes this morning, didn't he?"

"Oh, oh, you're funny, but wait," McKay paused for dramatic effect, "you're not."

Stackhouse grunted and nearly dropped his half of the crate on Miller's foot. McKay's eyes almost bugged out of his head and began ranting again.

"Well I can see you have your hands full here..." Sheppard smirked at the dirty look the marines shot him. "Well, they do."

McKay rolled his eyes. "You've made your little delivery; off you go!"

Sheppard mock saluted McKay, who rolled his eyes and returned to badgering Stackhouse and Miller.

And Sheppard left, and the world was still simple. Earth was the only cradle of life in the known universe. Telepathy between man and machine was a thing of science fiction, and doing what was right would still get you royally screwed over and banished to the most remote location known to man.

---

Two weeks later, a brigadier general came to McMurdo, and John had drawn the assignment to ferry General O'Neill back to the remote outpost, not realizing his world was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

This led to the second time he met McKay, and John had been flat on his back staring up at a model of the solar system, a hologram apparently created from his mind. Of course, he wasn't paying too much attention to the scientist, as he was literally sitting in the most powerful seat in the world. In actuality, he almost missed him entirely, what with Weir dragging him off to ask him to join her expedition.

It was after he'd refused her, and she'd run on to finish her diplomatic duties that he'd found the man eyeing the chair in contempt. Something about the sour expression just made him want to see what further reaction he could get.

"You know if you keep that up, your face can get stuck like that."

McKay speared him with a look, before looking back at the chair. "Just an urban myth, told by mothers who want their children to look perpetually happy."

"Suck on a lemon today McKay? Or does your face always pucker up like that?"

"Trust me, if I even went near a lemon, you'd know. My whole neck and face would swell up and I'd start gasping for air like a dying fish."

"Allergy?"

"No, I just like doing my impression of a blowfish," McKay rolled his eyes and moved away from the chair, presumably to check on something else.

With nothing else to do until O'Neill was ready to leave, Sheppard followed. "That must suck. So when life gives you lemons, instead of making lemonade you—"

"Make like a frog and croak? Yes." McKay stopped at an unmanned table with a small trinket.

"What's that?" Sheppard asked, intruding into McKay's personal bubble to get a better look.

"Will you--!" McKay started at the close proximity and moved around the table to keep his distance. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Not until the general is ready to book it back to McMurdo. So what is it?"

"I'm not sure," McKay said, holding the round pock-marked ball out for Sheppard to see. "There's not any sort of instruction manual on it, and I haven't figured out how to activate it yet."

"Maybe it's a tennis ball?"

"A tennis ball? So the Ancients could play fetch with their prehistoric Labrador Retriever?"

"Every kid needs a pet," Sheppard shrugged.

McKay snorted and set the ball back onto the table, eyeing the object in much the same manner he did the chair. Sheppard raised an eyebrow and reached a finger out to poke the ball.

"No don't--!"

It was too late, the major's finger met the ball and it lit up like a Christmas tree, complete with blinking lights. It hovered up a few centimeters in the air, so it was just hovering off the ground.

"—touch it," McKay finished. "I swear you're like a toddler..."

"Looks like a flashing floating tennis ball."

"Marvelous observation there, Major." McKay glared at him and tried to grab the ball, only for it to gently roll out of his reach. With an annoyed huff he tried it again, only to have it swoosh away from him again.

Sheppard grinned. "Hey! I like this thing!"

"You would! Now shut it off before it blows us up or something equally inconvenient."

Sheppard shrugged and reached for the ball, surprised to see it rush towards his hand. As soon as it met his skin it deactivated back into the lightless object it was before. He handed it over McKay, who quickly snatched it away.

"_Thank_ you."

"You're welcome," he smiled ingratiatingly.

"Why can't you go bother that marine over there?" McKay sighed. "I'm sure you'd exchange marvelous stories on blowing things up and how to properly execute a salute."

Sheppard glanced at the young marine, who was currently trying to help one of the scientists right some equipment that had been upturned in the chaos caused by the drone. "He's busy."

"So am I!" McKay snapped, cheeks puffing out in anger.

"Oh look! There's your blowfish impersonation!"

If anything, this made McKay's face pinch together even more in annoyance, and John had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The sound of his name being shouted out made him turn, and he had to sigh, seeing that Weir wanted to talk to him again.

"Oh thank god!" McKay practically shouted.

Sheppard cocked an eyebrow and waved jauntily at the frustrated scientist. "Later McKay!"

The scientist sniffed in disdain and started poking the Ancient tennis ball in annoyance. Sheppard shrugged and went to see Weir about what she wanted this time. She raised an eyebrow at the frustrated McKay.

Sheppard shrugged innocently. "He's not a fan of blowfish."

"I'll keep that in mind," she smiled a half-smile, and was that a spark of deviance he caught in her eye?

"What?"

"Nothing, the General is about ready to go," she nodded in the direction of O'Neill, who seemed to be imparting some final wisdom to Dr. Jackson. "I hope you'll reconsider my offer Major."

"Thanks Doc, but no thanks. I told myself McMurdo was the furthest they could send me," he smiled at her, hoping to let her know it wasn't anything personal. "Let the General know I'll have the chopper waiting whenever he's ready to go."

She nodded, but he could still swear she looked like she had some ulterior plan.

And he left, and the world was less simple. Life was spread to the far reaches of the universe. Big stone circles could toss you from planet to planet in a blink of an eye. Beware of big metal chairs, they can read your mind. Oh yeah, and he was an alien... or an ancient... or whatever.

But you could still get screwed over for doing the right thing, and now, apparently for being born with a crazy mutant gene leftover from the last evolution of humans.

Before he was the new Superman, before the chair, before even walking into the _prehistoric_ _world defense base_, O'Neill had offered him a ticket from McMurdo, back into civilization. Apparently all he had to do was agree to go to another galaxy to find some lost sunken city.

Sure, why not. Right?

Besides, he could always change his mind and return to the snow, ice, and loneliness.

---

The next time he met the good doctor, Sheppard had been helping the Atlantis expedition pack up its equipment and ferry various personnel. He was a glorified taxi ride, minus the gratuity.

He made his way down the elevator, nodding to the young marine standing guard. "Ford."

"Sir," the lieutenant nodded back.

He'd had a conversation or two with the young marine, and found he generally liked the kid. If he ever had need of a munitions expert once they reached this mythical city he'd know who to look up.

"Where's Beckett?"

"Last I saw him, Doctor McKay had him cornered near the chair."

"McKay, chair, great," Sheppard muttered to himself but set off towards the chair room where he'd first gotten acquainted with his newfound 'super powers'.

He found Beckett literally up against a wall, with McKay shoving what looked like an oddly shaped coffee mug at the poor Scottish doctor.

"Don't you have a power source to be configuring or something? I don't want to touch your bloody doohickey!"

"Carson, please. I can't work on the ZedPM until I get back to Cheyenne Mountain, and since I'm still stuck out here in the icy wasteland, I might as well try to figure out what some of the uncatalogued pieces left here are."

"Rodney, I have a whole lab to pack up before the helicopter gets back here."

"C'mon, this'll take two seconds. Touch it."

"C'mon McKay, no means no."

Carson breathed a sigh of relief. "Major Sheppard, you're here already?"

"Right on time, Doc," Sheppard tapped his watch.

Carson shot a glare at McKay and pushed past him to resume his packing. "Sorry, Major, I'd be done if _certain people_ didn't keep interrupting me."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Please. You were just sitting there moaning about inhibiting proteins."

"I should be finished in a few minutes," Beckett promised John, ignoring McKay altogether. He moved off to the rest of his equipment, leaving the remaining two men to several moments of awkward silence.

"_So_..." John finally said, looking around, as if he could pull a topic out of the ceiling, eyes finally settling on the object in McKay's hands. "Give up on trying to get the tennis ball to work?"

McKay huffed and glared at the mug in his hands. "It wasn't a tennis ball, Major, it was a..."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows, awaiting the answer to his question.

"Inoperable," McKay finally settled on, since he wouldn't admit he had no clue what the actual use of the ball had been.

"I got it to work."

"Yeah, you and your magical gene," McKay sneered. "It would be a lot easier to figure out the scientific purposes to these things if they all didn't require the stupid thing to activate them."

"Why McKay, you sound a little jealous." Sheppard grinned inwardly, seeing the physicist's eye starting to take on the familiar, amusing twitch.

"I am not jealous!" McKay snapped. "It's just a random mutation."

"Seems to be a dominant random mutation that's lasted a while," Sheppard mused, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see if McKay was taking the bait.

The cheeks started to puff out again, and his eyebrows dipped into a deep set scowl. "For your information—"

He was. Oh goody.

"There's no proof it's _dominant_, or any better than other genes. It's just dumb luck that you managed to get some leftover allele from some Ancient gigolo of long ago."

"Guess that means I've got the _lucky_ genes, eh?"

McKay snorted, not having realized he was being baited. For the "resident genius," he certainly took a while to catch on. Sheppard reached a hand out for the mug. "You want me to give it the magical touch?"

This elicited a chortle. "Magical touch? Who talks like that?"

"Well, if you don't want me to touch it—"

"No turn it on!" McKay was shoving it at him now. "I'm bored out of my mind."

Sheppard inclined an eyebrow but accepted the mug-looking device. "Any idea what this one does?"

"Actually..." McKay paused, and finally shook his head. "No clue."

"Ancient's coffee mug?" Sheppard raised the cup up to eye level.

"Do you think the Ancients walked around their defense base drinking coffee and tossing balls to their now-extinct species of pets?"

Sheppard shrugged and tried projecting the thought for the mug to work. That didn't seem to do the trick. He turned it upside down, frowning at something etched into the surface. What the hell did Z-E-L-E-N-K-A mean anyway?

"What's this?" He asked, showing the inscription to the scientist.

McKay flushed and muttered something under his breath before stowing the mug away. "It must be broken. I mean, this stuff is like over ten thousand years old, right? Can't expect all of it to work."

"You're our resident expert on all this Ancient technology right?" Sheppard asked, eyeing the mug that McKay was now trying to hide behind his back.

"That's what they tell me," he rocked back on his heels.

"We're so screwed."

"Hey! I grabbed the wrong thing!" McKay spat. "They were right next to each other!"

"It's a coffee mug... admittedly a very ugly one, but how can you mistake that for a piece of technology?"

"How can you mistake a command chair for a park bench?"

"It's not like I fired off any drones or endangered any lives!"

"I heard that!" The Scottish brogue drifted from around the corner. "It wasn't my fault! He made me sit in the bloody thing!"

"I asked you to think about where you were in the universe, not 'how about you try playing _Duck Hunt_ with that helicopter there?'!"

Beckett shouted something distinctly foreign and very unpleasant sounding before both men heard him loudly finish his packing.

"That was a little harsh, don't you think?" Sheppard asked.

"It's how I operate, Major. Cold, hard truth. You better get used to it if we're going to be seeing a lot of each other," McKay snapped as he started back towards a stack of crates, unceremoniously plopping the coffee mug on top of it.

"Are you always this pleasant to people trying to make conversation?" Sheppard shot to the retreating back.

"I don't make conversation," McKay looked over his shoulder long enough to give Sheppard another displeased look. "I just do my work. Speaking of work, isn't it time you got to yours?"

"Gladly," Sheppard muttered to himself and went to help Beckett finish up so he could get out of this damn place.

---

And he left, and the world was simple again. McKay was an ass. Sheppard wasn't sure why he had started to think any differently. He had continued his helicopter ferry until the Atlantis expedition had been fully packed and ready to go back to the States. He had, in fact, forgotten about the acerbic scientist, his mind more focused on things like aliens, Ancients, and getting reduced down to a single atom and being reassembled light years away.

However, apparently now that the universe had decided to introduce him to the annoying man, Sheppard couldn't seem to escape McKay. He ran into him everywhere. After McMurdo, he kept passing him in the halls of the SGC whenever he had to go in for a briefing, check in with Weir, or play lab rat for pieces of unactivated Ancient technology scattered in labs around the base.

Around every corner lurked McKay, the plague of his life--if he didn't count his commanding officer or smirking side attachment named Bates. The one bright point in his life is that he'd finally thawed out from Antarctica, and was starting to get used to civilization again.

The last conversation he'd had with McKay in the Milky Way Galaxy happened, or rather, exploded, the day before the scheduled dialing of Atlantis. Sheppard had finally gotten some peace from him after he'd disappeared to work on integrating the 'ZedPM' with the gate's power. It was just his luck to run into him after he picked up his Atlantis uniforms, complete with patches of flying horses.

"Major! Just the man I was looking for!" McKay looked genuinely happy to see him, and in the two-month crash course he'd had from McKay encounters, that meant one thing.

"Whatever the question is McKay, I'm not touching it, activating it, thinking at it, or any other expression you want me to use so you can see something light up. Everything you've had me touch is useless! It's like you stumbled into the kitchen of some poor unsuspecting Ancient and raided their entire cupboard!"

"Touché, however, it's not about that." McKay grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him towards the part of SGC John had dubbed 'McKay's Lair'. He immediately started backpedaling.

"Oh no! I know once you get me in there, we start all of the 'Look at what amazing piece of crap I stole from Dr. Jackson's office! Let's see what it does!'! You know, for a man who doesn't make conversation, you certainly talk a lot," Sheppard accused, jerking his arm out of McKay's grip.

Something flashed in the scientist's eyes, and Sheppard had a hard time telling if it was hurt, shock, or annoyance. He'd given up on trying to read anything past the permanent scowl shortly after they'd returned from McMurdo.

"Well I guess it couldn't be that important, would it?" McKay eyed the stack of uniforms neatly pressed and wrapped together under Sheppard's arm. "Visiting the resident tailor _is_ of galactic importance."

"Look McKay, I'm tired of being your little lab rat just because you don't have this goddamn gene. I've got to prepare for this mission too! I can't just be dragged off by you because you've got some new idea you want to try out on a pile of junk," Sheppard fired back, aware that his eye might be twitching this time. "If I could, I'd give you _mine_ just to get you out my hair!"

McKay looked appalled at the thought of anyone not wanting the ability to access all this 'wondrous' technology, and was at a loss for words for a few seconds. "The only reason you're off that chunk of ice is because of that gene."

"Don't you think I know that?" Sheppard hissed, suddenly aware they were in the middle of the hall, bickering like two ten year olds in a sandbox. "Not that it's _any_ of your business, but the fact that I'm getting sent even _farther_ away isn't exactly a pat on the back."

"Don't think for one moment you're the only exile in our happy little parade, Sheppard," McKay spat, voice full of spite and conviction. It seemed then that he realized he gave something away, some sort of actual inner emotion other than annoyance, and caught himself. "We're not all whistling a happy tune as we pack our bags to what could be a very watery grave. One ice block, or another, doesn't make much difference."

"And here I thought you were jumping for joy to start skipping around Ancients'R'Us," Sheppard leaned against the wall, his ire at being hijacked draining away slowly.

"Yes, but it won't do me much good to go on the veritable scientific shopping spree if I don't have any batteries for any of the toys," McKay shook his head.

"Yeah, and it would really suck to have to wait in that long line to return all the stuff," Sheppard smirked, before remembering other borrowed items. "Speaking of giving things back, have you given Dr. Zlenk... Dr. Zelsk... did you return the man's cup?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about Major," McKay raised his eyebrows innocently.

"Seriously, that thing looks like his grandmother with palsy made it. It's probably something of high sentimental value."

The tiniest inklings of a smile hinted at the corners of McKay's mouth. "Real sensitive there, Major."

"Your careless disregard for tact is contagious. And I mean that in the flu epidemic kind of way, not the stomach bug way."

"Nice to know I'm passing on valuable social habits onto others."

"It might be best if you kept those habits to yourself. We can't have all our negotiators coming back tarred and feathered."

McKay shrugged, as if to say 'What can you do?'

"So now that we're blocking the hallway, what was so urgent that you had to show me?" Sheppard leaned more into the wall as a marine shoved a cart full of packed crates by.

"You know," McKay wrinkled his brow, before raising a shoulder in submission. "I forgot."

"The Great Rodney McKay? Forget?"

"It happens to the best of us. Now if you'll excuse me, I think Siler is done with the power controls, and I have to get back to integrating the ZedPM and the gate's power."

"Wait!" Sheppard called out, and McKay paused in his hasty retreat. "Did you keep dragging me down here just because you needed someone to talk to?"

"Please Major," McKay rolled his eyes. "I already told you, I don't make conversation."

"Uh huh."

"And if I were, why would I pull aside a grunt with a mutant gene when I have the ravishing Colonel Carter's lab only a few doors down from me?"

If Sheppard was closer, he might've seen the amused glint in McKay's eyes. All the same, he gave McKay the same jaunty wave he did so many weeks ago back in Antarctica. "Make sure to duck when going through the gate tomorrow, McKay."

He however did see the confused frown from the distance down the hall. "Why?"

"I've got the feeling we're going to have a lot of lemons thrown our way."

"Major, they're all yours." McKay returned the wave as he continued his way down the hall.

He snorted softly as he tucked the bundle of uniforms under his arm. Of course they were all his. He shook his head and continued the way he'd been headed before being hijacked by McKay.

And Sheppard left, and the simplicity of life really didn't matter anymore. Aliens, Ancients, exiles, chairs, blowfish, tennis balls, and giant matter transporting stone circles... who cared? Well, he did, but it didn't change that tomorrow was going to come either way.

At least this time he was facing it without snow boots.


	2. A Fighting Chance

Title: The Ties that Bind: "A Fighting Chance"

Disclaimer: Ah, if I owned Stargate Atlantis, I would be happy. I could press a button and Sheppard and McKay would start snarking at each other for amusement. However I don't own it, so in a cheap way to get more snarking, I must write it myself.

Spoilers: Rising (Parts 1 and 2)

Author's Notes: Written originally for the SGAHC 5 minute challenge "My father never..." Also I owe a great deal of thanks to two lovely ladies, Linda and Maddie, for reading over this and being able to say "Uh, you should change this". :) I'm thinking they might need a raise.

* * *

"My father never would believe this," McKay said to the ocean. Rodney was always a practical man, and had he come across another person doing the same thing, he would've scoffed. Luckily he was left all alone with his thoughts. He knew he should be trying to engineer some sort of plan to help but he had stepped outside to escape the bitching of one chemist named Kavanagh who was rapidly becoming a large thorn in his side.

The waves lapped lazily at the bottom of the city, and the ocean breeze teased his hair. His father wouldn't believe any of this, McKay thought wryly. His aggravating genius son would never have the guts to do anything remotely dangerous, much less step through a shimmering portal of energy into another galaxy. Father would never believe in the existence of life outside of his narrow views either, but that was beside the point.

His father believed he was a coward, McKay thought bitterly, and he was right. He was scared absolutely shitless right now. He'd left Grodin to deal with the dialing sequences as soon as Weir had pulled Sheppard outside. Honestly, the nerve that jarhead had. It wasn't as if he would believe a non-functioning gate address was going to be where the Wraith had taken Sumner and the others. Even if they found the planet the Wraith took the rest of the military team to, what chance would a handful of military officers have?

He was worried, but not because they were his fellow Earthlings or something selfless like that. No, he was worried because if Sheppard attempted some half-crazed rescue attempt and failed, who would be left to make sure the Wraith didn't swoop down onto Atlantis and suck him up with their ships?

He had no idea what they wanted with the Colonel and Athosians, and he had the feeling he probably didn't want to. From his time spent around the SGC, he had learned very quickly that unless they walked up holding the Vulcan sign for "live long and prosper", alien races probably didn't want to exchange pleasantries.

"I don't even believe this," he muttered, pushing his hands off the balcony. Kavanagh probably was gone by now, and Rodney could return to overseeing damage control.

"Doctor McKay," one of the scientists whose name escaped him asked on the radio.

"Here," he toggled the radio, resisting the urge to sigh into the mouthpiece.

"Now that the city is out of danger, we'd like to look at the spaceships we found," the voice positively squeaked with excitement.

Spaceships? Oh right, Elizabeth had mentioned them in passing. He knew the scientists were "qualified", but he cringed at the thought of what an overzealous engineer would do. "Later. Concentrate on setting things up now."

He heard a noise of disappointment over the radio, before a reluctant, "All right."

"There you are," He was startled by a voice from behind. He jumped around, and glared at the intruder.

"What are you? A cat?" McKay glared at one of the many people he was very annoyed with at the moment. "What do you want?"

"Well it looks like you're still on your diet of cranky flakes," Sheppard narrowed an eyebrow. "How are we coming on getting the gate address?"

"Well since I'm in the control room and not a balcony far, far away..." McKay rolled his eyes as the major returned the glare. McKay tapped the radio again. "Peter, what's our status on the gate?"

"Still no good," Grodin replied in his gratingly proper English accent. "We've tried almost fifty combinations already."

"Keep at it," Sheppard tapped his own earpiece.

"Will do."

"Happy now?" McKay crossed his arms.

"Ecstatic," Sheppard glanced over McKay's shoulder. "Why are you out here?"

"I was about to practice my swan dive," McKay tried to shoulder past the major, watching as surprise then annoyance flickered in his eyes. "It's none of your damn business."

"Snippy."

"Yes well, he giveth and he shall receive."

"Are you expecting an apology?" Sheppard asked, sounding entirely too defensive.

"No," McKay eyed the man blocking the door in the same manner he would an uncooperative piece of technology. "Apologies are pointless, much like making conversation. So unless you have anything useful to say, I have many things to do, one of which is tracking down your phantom planet."

With that he successfully dodged around Sheppard and reached the door. As it swished open, he heard Sheppard sigh.

"I'm sorry."

McKay stopped cold, feeling his stomach unclench. It didn't mean a thing. He was out here to work and discover, and he really didn't care what anyone thought. "Why?" He dared to look over his shoulder as he saw the pilot shrug.

"We're all doing our best out here."

McKay turned the rest of the way around, still eyeing Sheppard distrustfully. "Apology not accepted."

Sheppard's mouth flopped open, and Rodney had to resist smiling at how much he looked like a walrus. Sheppard quickly recovered, covering up his surprise with pure McKay-induced annoyance.

"You little shit! I was just trying to be nice."

"My point exactly Major," McKay stepped back out onto the balcony, satisfied he'd knocked some of the wind out of Sheppard's sails. "Niceties are just little lies, and where we stand, we can't afford anything but brutal honesty."

"And where do we stand?" Sheppard crossed his arms to mirror McKay's stance.

"We're standing at the edge of a very steep cliff," McKay stepped up closer to Sheppard, glad for a chance to let out his frustration on someone. "And you're about to push us over."

"Me?"

"You want to take on the race that sent the _Ancients_ packing. They've already attacked this city once!" McKay flung an arm in the air. "What's the point of running out and getting yourself killed?"

"Aw, didn't know that you cared," Sheppard quirked a half smile.

"I don't!" McKay insisted quickly and stepped around Sheppard back to the balcony. He ignored the disbelieving look he received. "The 'yourself' was meant in a general sense. What I mean is, what's the point when we don't have a chance?"

"It's the right thing to do," Sheppard insisted, stepping up next to McKay. It was another thing about the man that annoyed him, the fact that he'd cut straight through any bluster and address the heart of the matter.

"I know that! If I were sucked up by an alien craft I'd hope like hell someone would chase after me. _My_ point is that you're going to get yourself killed and lead the dogs right back to us." McKay glared out at the water. Yeah, his father was right. He was a coward; and damn proud of it.

"We have a chance," Sheppard rested his elbows on the rail. Next to him McKay snorted. "We took out one of their darts. They're not invincible."

"Oh yippee. So what? You don't even know what they _look_ like. You can't fight something you can't see."

"Are you always this pessimistic?"

"You don't know me at all, do you?" McKay asked sarcastically. "All right Mr. Glass-Half-Full. Give me one good reason why we're not going to get our asses kicked by the local bullies."

"Simple," Sheppard said without even pausing to think. "We've got Atlantis."

"Oh yeah, fat lot of good it's done us so far."

"Where's your faith McKay?"

"Faith is for children and idiots." McKay glanced at Sheppard, who met his hard stare with an equal look of determination.

"Rodney," Grodin's voice came over the radio. "We have a lock on one of the addresses."

McKay shared a glance with Sheppard and as one they pushed themselves away from the balcony.

"We're on our way. Get the MALP ready," McKay said into the dangling mic.

"See, things are looking up already," Sheppard chirped happily beside him.

"Shut up," McKay shook his head.

(o)(o)(o)

The image of a planet lazily swinging by filled the computer screen. In his mind's eye, McKay saw the MALP slowly dancing away from the gate. That was rather inconvenient.

"I'm sorry," Weir said to Sheppard after she gave the order to shut down the gate. McKay watched the event horizon wink into nothingness, followed by a look of utter frustration on the major's face.

McKay was used to the frustration, after all, he was the cause of it half the time he talked to the man, but the disappointment behind it was new. For some reason it didn't sit right with him. McKay had no idea why another person's frustrations, let alone Sheppard's, would concern him so much. It _was_ hopeless though. They couldn't reach the planet without a ship... his own look of annoyance disappeared as an idea struck him. "Come with me, Major."

Confused but compliant, Sheppard followed McKay without question. He strode out of the control room with a purpose. He hadn't actually been in the ship bay yet, but he had a rough idea where it was from all his running around earlier.

"All right, I'll bite. What's the rush?" Sheppard actually had to jog a bit to catch up with the fast stride McKay was setting.

"I just may have something for you," Rodney's eyes lit up as he gave the major a small smirk. "That is, if you don't mind being a test subject."

"Where are we going?" Sheppard asked as they rounded a corner to a set of stairs, practically jogging up the steps. As they ascended, each step lit up, as if it were expecting their arrival.

"We found this shortly before you gated to Athos," McKay said as they strode into the huge bay filled with ships. He took in the vast hangar, allowing himself to feel a little impressed.

"Nice," Sheppard grinned and stepped towards the closest ship, seeming only half-surprised when the door slid open for him.

For McKay the automatic doors were still spooky, it was like walking around a giant grocery stores, what with every door swooping open on its own to welcome you. He followed Sheppard's confident stride a little more hesitantly, because it never hurt to be too cautious.

The interior lights of the ship lit up as they stepped in, and Sheppard let his hand lightly caress the craftsmanship as he found his way up to the front. A touch to the middle console lit up the entire front of the ship.

McKay hung at the back of the ship, wondering if the Ancient craft was still flyable. All of their technology was so different, so advanced. "Can you fly it?"

Sheppard gave him a half-annoyed, almost offended look. What? Had Rodney just insulted his ultra-pilot ego?

The major sat down at the console. "What do you say we find out?"

"This is amazing," McKay said quietly, although excitement was slowly creeping into his voice as he continued to explore the back area of the ship. "This can hold at least twelve people. And look at the shape of it! I think these were designed to go through the gate."

Sheppard glanced at the circular cockpit. Yeah, it made sense. "Cool."

"Cool?" McKay asked haughtily as he joined Sheppard near the front. "You're sitting in the most advanced spacecraft we've yet to encounter, and all you can say is 'cool'?"

"Sorry, how about 'nifty'?" Sheppard asked as he familiarized himself with the controls and display.

"Something with more than one syllable would be preferable," McKay snipped as he sat down in the co-pilot's seat, already peering at the control panel. "I've got to get my equipment and run readings on these!"

"Hold up there Sparky, let's see if I can get it to work," Sheppard said, reaching out for the controls.

"Wait! I really should--"

Sheppard grabbed a hold of the controls, and immediately the spacecraft responded. A hum of an engine started, and the panel in front of McKay lit up.

"Why do you always do that!" He snapped at the grinning pilot. "One of these days you're going to touch something that's going to bite back!"

"It's a ship McKay, not a dog," Sheppard rolled his eyes. The scenery of the hangar shifted as they lifted off the ground. "Well I think this is a good indicator that it works. Any ideas on how we're suppose to squeeze it into the gateroom? I think the door is a little small."

"I'm on it," McKay said as he studied the panel. He really wished he had his laptop, or hell, one of his PDAs to access the interface in good old Canadian English. "Do me a favor, and ask the ship to access the information database."

"Ask the ship?" Sheppard smirked. "Like on Star Trek?"

"Major," he said with all of the patience of an axe murderer, "this is not some cheesy remake of classic television."

"Pity, I rather liked Kirk."

"Kirk was in the original, Picard was in the second one," McKay huffed in annoyance. "Which is beside the point!"

Sheppard just shrugged. Rodney made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat before jumping out of his chair and storming to the back of the ship. He leaned out, looking up. "The Ancients wouldn't have built a hangar full of ships to just sit and collect dust. Obviously they're supposed to go through the gate, so _obviously_ they would've built in a way for the ship to access the gate as well."

"Obviously," Sheppard echoed from the pilot's seat.

"Let me grab my equipment to run a diagnostic on the ship," McKay looked at the ground, considering the height. "You mind setting down?"

"We're like what, a whole foot in the air? C'mon McKay, live a little."

"How is jumping a foot living?" McKay asked in exasperation.

"It's not like you're jumping off the gateroom balcony," Sheppard called back. "Just step out of the ship."

"Fine!" Rodney snapped and jumped down, feeling his feet hit and a tiny tremor run up his spine.

"And grab Weir while you're down there," Sheppard shouted back. "I want her to see this!"

"Is that all? Or would you like a cold beverage too?"

"Nope, just Weir and a way to get this rescue mission underway."

"Right," McKay muttered as he made his way back towards the stairs.

(o)(o)(o)

"Wow, this is just... wow."

The voice behind him caused Rodney to look up from the diagnostics he was running. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed the identity of the new visitor, the baby faced lieutenant. McKay thought his name might've been Chrysler. Or Ford. Some car company. He returned to the diagnostic, making sure every system was running fine. Sheppard had discovered the cloak, and in spectacular and dramatic fashion had to show it off. If there was a cloak, who knew what else might be loaded on the tiny ship?

Life support looked good. It looked like it recycled the air, pulling in exhaust from—

"This thing goes through the gate, right?"

McKay closed his eyes in frustration. Why did people think he wanted to talk to them? He decided to pretend it was a rhetorical question and tried to focus back on the data in front of him.

"McKay right?" And suddenly there he was, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, grin splitting his face like there was no tomorrow. "Can you believe this thing?"

"Yes, yes, quite spectacular. Look, Chevy—"

"Ford," he corrected with the hints of a frown.

"Whatever, _Lieutenant_, I'm very busy here, I'm sure you'll understand. Making sure you don't spontaneously combust after going through the gate..." McKay trailed off as Ford stared back at him, the look on his face somewhere between annoyance and hurt. For Christ's sake, why did everyone expect him to be Mr. Sensitive? Nowhere in his contract with the Air Force did it say for him to play nice and pat their boo-boos.

"So it goes through the gate?" Ford repeated his earlier question.

"Yes," McKay said impatiently, "it goes through the gate."

"Cool," Ford grinned again. "So it's a Gateship."

"Gateship?" McKay repeated, eyes scanning the readout on his PDA. "That does make sense."

Ford sat there for a few moments, content in his success over naming the first great piece of technology the expedition had found. "So this thing really works, right?"

With a frustrated sigh, McKay set the PDA on his lap and turned to the younger man. "Yes, yes, it works marvelously. However if you're going to be able to _breathe_ or do anything worthwhile like that once you get through the gate, you're going to have to let me finish here!"

"Sorry," Ford muttered to himself, and McKay returned to tapping his translated readout.

He continued to scroll down the list, now that his distraction had shut up, it was going a lot faster. As he came across another system, he whistled softly.

"What?" Ford asked hesitantly.

"This ship is equipped with a complete bay of drones," McKay leaned over to show the PDA to the young marine, who frowned at it. Ford might as well have been looking at a VCR instruction manual written in Mandarin for all the sense it made to him. McKay saw this and slowly retracted the PDA. "You know that thing in Antarctica..."

"I know what a drone is," Ford said sourly, his tone indicating that he was far from an idiot. A moment of tense silence hung between the two, neither quite sure of what to say without offending the other. It was Ford who finally spoke up. "So Gateship is official?"

"I don't see why not," McKay agreed, the amicable tone not completely forced, just a little practiced.

"Yeah," Ford said, a trace of wistfulness leeching into his voice. "Is this one of those gene activated things?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Rodney's tone revealed his disdain on the matter. "Frustrating, isn't it?"

Ford nodded as he looked over the control panel. He wasn't a trained pilot or anything, but it would be nice to take this baby for a spin, after they rescued the colonel and everyone else of course. "I hope we can do it."

"Do what?"

"Pull off this rescue thing. I mean, I know this thing is suppose to turn invisible and all," Ford indicated the console. "But it was just so unreal out there."

McKay eyed the young lieutenant next to him, not understanding the pinching in his gut that made him want to offer some sort of empty reassurances. He wasn't Sheppard; he couldn't pretend that everything was happy and right in the world, and all they needed was a little bit of faith in the goodwill of the universe. "The cloak works..."

Ford looked at him, unsure of what that had to do with anything. They had passed each other in the Antarctic base several times, and had once or twice exchanged words on what needed to be moved where. They weren't friends; they were barely acquaintances. McKay didn't owe him anything, no support, no happy lies, and no reassurances.

"...and you've got the element of surprise. Plus you have Major Optimism on your side, so that should give you some kind of chance."

Ford smiled. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"Now get out of here, I need to finish this up so I can send you off on your little field trip."

(o)(o)(o)

He'd watched the _puddle jumper_ (what was wrong with Gateship?) as it disappeared through the event horizon, both marveling at the beauty of the Ancient technology and craftsmanship in action, as well as feeling strangely unsettled. He assured himself it was only a natural human interest in the outcomes of his fellow expedition members, and then promptly lost himself in delegating workloads and supervising discoveries. After all, that's what they brought _him_ here to do.

Even with the little amount of power they were able to provide the city, it was leaps and bounds beyond anything in his wildest dreams. He was about to provide Elizabeth with a progress report when he found her staring at the empty gate, re-thinking decisions.

He wasn't good at the comfort thing. He never had been, and highly doubted he ever would be. He honestly just didn't believe that lying would accomplish anything but delaying the inevitable, and probably causing even more complications along the way. He watched as guilt gnawed away at the expedition's leader, _his_ leader he reminded himself, and felt that flash of warmth blossoming in his gut like with Sheppard outside, and Ford in the jumper.

She had rescued him from his exile, believing in him even at the point he was starting to doubt his own genius. And he was a gentleman after all, meaning he didn't like seeing a woman in such distress. He decided to take a page from the Book of Sheppard, and put on a brave face.

"For what it's worth, you made the right decision." He joined her in watching the gate as he echoed Sheppard's words from earlier. "Just give them time."

Now, if he could only believe his own press, they'd be in business.

(o)(o)(o)

Rodney McKay was a very busy man, and as such, needed to be in ten different places around the city at the same time. So why was he was still in the gate room, which for all intents and purposes, had been secured and set up since they'd arrived?

He'd told Grodin that he wanted to monitor the energy efficiencies of the naquadah generators. When Elizabeth asked, he was checking on something in the Ancient database. Zelenka didn't ask, he just muttered something about a missing coffee mug and pointed out that McKay had already run the interface program three times now. He was quickly running out of things to do, especially when Carson had called him mentioning something about test trials.

"Maybe we could increase the generator output if we bypassed a few key systems..." Rodney announced to no one in particular. Was that a smile Grodin was trying to cover up? Nah, he probably was just too prudish to wipe his nose in public. He settled himself at another console.

The words started to run together in his mind, and he patted his pocket for the Power Bar he had stashed away earlier. Hypoglycemic reaction; it muddled the thought processes. He had read the same line twice, and was about to sigh and give up when tiny blue lights began running around the gate as someone else dialed in.

McKay sucked in a breath as Grodin activated the shield on Elizabeth's order. He'd been in the SGC only a very few times, but he knew intimately that unscheduled off-world activations usually weren't very pretty. Why had he been stalling here again?

Elizabeth shouted something about a code. No one seemed to be moving in that direction, so apparently it was up to him. He swiftly walked over to the laptop connected to the IDCs, feeling a wave of disappointment when he saw a blank display.

"Nothing yet."

He was calm, he was collected...

There was a blip on the screen, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Who the hell was he kidding? He was wound up tighter than Colonel Carter was whenever he walked in the room. No one else had to know that though, and he politely informed the room that Lieutenant Ford's IDC had been received.

The shield winked out with the flip of a switch from Grodin. Two seconds later a blue-tinged blast zinged through the gateroom. It pounded against the wall, sending up a shower of sparks and smoke. Like any sane person, he ducked down. Another one exploded right above his head.

Damn it! Where was Sheppard? Still crouched down he watched the shimmering field, feeling his heart thump in his chest with each breath he took.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath without realizing it.

Seconds stretched into what seemed like hours as he stared at the gate, trying to will the jumper to appear.

A horrible thought struck him, as he envisioned the puddle jumper going up in a fiery ball, and the only evidence of it would be a piece of molten rubbage that barreled through the gate... except that fire was an impossibility in space. No, the jumper would probably implode, leaving everyone inside—okay, that was an even worse mental image.

How long had they been waiting anyway? It had to have been minutes, not just a few seconds.

What the hell was Sheppard doing? Taking a Sunday drive?

"Come _on_!" he hissed.

The jumper slammed through the gate, and it looked for a second like it would plow its way through the rest of the control room as well. Miraculously, it stopped dead center with a small whine of the engines shutting down. The shield flared to life again, three bright flashes punctuating how close Sheppard had just cut it.

He exhaled that last breath he'd been holding as he jogged up to join Elizabeth at the railing. She gave him a reassuring smile before turning back to stare the jumper.

What? As _if_ he'd been worried.

The jumper set down noiselessly and the rescue team as well as the captives emerged from the back of the jumper. He found himself relieved to pick out the young lieutenant from earlier, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. Sheppard exited a moment later, looking as if he'd just run a marathon. He waved off the celebratory back slaps and congratulations as he looked up towards the railing above.

He smiled and waved, presumably at Elizabeth. McKay did his best to glower at the grin. The man had just made a mess of the gateroom, and had parked his jumper in the middle of the walkway, not to mention—

"Hey McKay!"

He blinked, pulled out of his silent grousing, and watched as Sheppard grinned impishly at him.

"You know if you keep that up," he didn't seem to care that he was shouting across half the gate room, "your face can get stuck like that!"

"Urban myth Major!" he shouted back. "Just an urban myth!"

He looked over and saw Elizabeth raising an eyebrow at him. "What?"

She just smiled and shook her head before moving to greet her returning expedition members. He harrumphed to himself before joining her, valiantly trying to ignore Sheppard's jokes about blowfish.

His father would have never believed it. His son, coward though he was, had just taken the biggest risk of all: he was starting to care about someone other than just himself.


End file.
